Hooked To You
by C.Queen
Summary: After taking a bad job Eames ends up shot and nearly dead, dreaming what he thinks is the last dream he will ever have.  But if it is his last dream, that's okay with him.  Arthur's in it.
1. Opened His Eyes

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

Opened His Eyes

In some part of his brain Eames processed his surroundings, his training too ingrained for him not to even as his mind and body cried out in horrible, all consuming pain. He'd taken three bullets already, and when they caught him they'd add to that number. Or just one more to finish him off, the forger thought grimly as he struggled to keep moving through the gloomy, dank alleyways. There was really no point in running, he was done for and he knew it. But it went against his very nature to just give up and let himself be taken.

They would take his life, but damned if he wouldn't make them work for it.

Trying to use the pain to make him focus Eames continued to run even as the loss of blood drained him of his strength and will to go on. He felt like his whole body was filled with lead; just putting one foot in front of the other seemed an insurmountable task.

But he kept moving until he couldn't, finally falling to his knees and then his side with a low, bitten back groan.

So he would die in an alley, with the scents of garbage and filth in his nostrils, Eames thought as he started to fade further into unconsciousness. He would die alone but for the men who'd been paid to kill him, no one to hold or comfort him in his final moments.

The death he'd always imagined for himself.

If his body was found there might be a funeral, he thought with dark humor. His government might feel obligated to bury one of their former operatives in thanks for services previously rendered. Not that any government would willing admit to having ever paid him to use his considerable skills on their competition. But if they did have a funeral, would anyone come? Thoughts turning to the people who had played a major role in his life, Eames wasn't surprised that he could count on one hand the number of people who might, possibly, if they somehow found out he was dead, come.

The team he had completed Inception with.

Ariadne would come because she was still soft that way, and Saito out of a sense of honor and former comradery perhaps. Asians were funny about that sort of thing. Cobbs would come as his colleague probably and Arthur…Arthur would come because the man would think it the right thing to do.

Arthur.

His pompous, uptight, always right, fastidious dream man. The one man he'd never been able to forget or truly out run. The only man he'd ever run from. And how he ran, Eames thought as his heart ached from over exertion and grief. Greif that now he really would never know what Arthur would have said if he'd ever found the nerve to tell the man how he felt about him. He'd never know how Arthur felt about him or what could have been for either of them if they felt the same.

But he could imagine and see clearly the other man's face, and picturing his beloved in his mind's eye Eames relaxed, the rest of his body giving up the fight to function as he concentrated solely on remembering every look, touch, word he'd ever exchanged with Arthur over the years, savoring them like the finest of wines.

Lips curving into something resembling a smile, Eames didn't even flinch when he heard the approaching footsteps, didn't even bother to try to get up as two of his pursuers came to stand on either side of him. Even their words of dire intent weren't enough to rouse him interest. He'd rather think only of Arthur's voice and words.

Closing his eyes Eames welcomed the darkness, the sound of two gunshots echoing in his ears as the blood flowed across the cracked concrete.

)

When Eames opened his eyes again it was to see a perfect blue sky decorated with fluffy white clouds, the feel of warm sand against his arms and legs. Like something out of a dream, the forger thought, grinning as his mind realized that that was most likely the case. Trying to remember how he had gotten from a disgusting alley to a beach Eames drew a blank, though in the back of his mind, very vaguely, he could remember the sound of voices talking to him, the whine of sirens and machines in his ears.

He must have been found before he'd croaked, Eames realized as he sat up, taking in the stretch of deserted beach and water around him. No way would heaven ever take him after all and he'd always been fond of surf and sand. Of course there was no way they could save him, this was likely the last dream he would ever have. Even with the best doctors in the world, it was hard to believe those last two shots, no matter where they'd hit, hadn't pushed him into the beyond saving realm. So here he was, sampling his last taste of something good before the darkness took him. Dressed in a tropical, unbuttoned shirt and swimming trunks, Eames stared at the blue water that called to him so sweetly. But he didn't move towards the water, remaining where he was as he took stock of his surroundings more closely.

So there would be no one to share his last moments with, even in his dreams, Eames thought with a self deprecating smile, shading his eyes with his hand.

But even as he thought that Eames sensed that he wasn't in fact alone, honed instinct making him get shakily to his feet, his arms automatically wrapping around his waist protectively. He still felt weak, his real injuries bad enough to remain even in his dream. Looking around him the man finally spotted a figure walking along the shoreline, the solitary individual a blurred form to Eames's weak eyes.

And then the man was close enough and Eames felt his heart open and sing as it always did at the unexpected sight of Arthur, his favorite point man.

Grinning widely Eames wasn't surprised in the least to find the man dressed in perfectly tailored slacks and a dress shirt, the pant legs neatly rolled up so as not to get dirty. The man had even gone a little wild and had unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his starched white shirt. Hair perfectly slicked back, not a strand out of place, shoes in one hand to keep them away from the elements.

That was his Arthur. Never short of pressed perfect.

"It's about time you woke up." Arthur called out to him, the man's free hand in his pocket as he came closer.

"I'm still dreaming, Darling." Eames pointed out, eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of the man he hadn't seen in almost a year.

"So you are. Though you might think it a nightmare before I'm done with you." Arthur informed the Englishman as he came to a stop directly in front of the forger, his eyes dark with leashed anger and disapproval. "What were you thinking, taking a job for Vance Cromwell? Of all the stupid, idiotic things you've ever-omph."

Not about to waste time, especially since he didn't know how long he had, Eames yanked the younger man up against him with one hand, the other cupping the point man's head as he kissed the man with a passion and skill to rival any love scene ever dreamed.

He'd kissed Arthur only once in real life, or at least he thought he had. He'd been terribly drunk at the time, celebrating their completed job, but he was still pretty sure it had happened. Not that Arthur had said anything about it later, but they hadn't met up again until the Fischer job. It probably hadn't mattered enough to the point man to remember, Eames thought as he traced the man's lips with his tongue.

He'd spent countless hours trying to recall snatches of that kiss.

But he'd kissed and made love to the man millions of times in his dreams, imagining what could be if only the man were to share his interest. It had never seemed so real as this, Eames thought as the American returned his kisses with equal passion, Arthur's hands fisted against his back, desperately clutching onto his shirt. Arthur's mouth had never tasted so seductive and inviting, so full of secrets that the forger ached to discover each and every one of them.

Pulling away Arthur gasped for air, clutching the man shoulders now for support. "Dammit, Eames, I'm trying to yell at you here."

"If I live that long you can punish me later."

Reaching down Eames got a good hold of either side of the man's shirt and ripped it open, too impatient to bother undoing the buttons. Ignoring Arthur's bitching about what he'd just done the forger turned his attention to ravishing the side of the man's neck, his desire growing with every ragged groan and breathy sigh he rung from the other man's throat.

"By God you're so infuriating." Arthur groaned out, unable to stop himself or Eames. "What am I going to do with you?"

Eames chuckles against the man's well bitten neck. "I have plenty of suggestions if you'd like to hear them, Luv."

"I'll just bet you do, you filthy minded ass." Arthur shot back snobbishly, even as he slid his hands under the forger's shirt to touch bare skin. "Not that you've ever had the nerve to say them to me outside your dreams. I'm wasting my time here really, you probably don't even have the guts to follow through here either. You'll run away like you always do, too afraid of what I make you feel to stick around. Just like that time in Prague."

Annoyed at his dream Arthur Eames's hands moved between their bodies so that he could undo the man's leather belt, his eyes hot and hungry as they stared into the other man's. "I'll show you how much a man I am, you prissy little perfectionist. By the time I'm done with you you won't be able to crawl away from me."

"I crawl for no man." Arthur shot back, his fingers encircling Eames wrists, preventing the man from undoing his trousers. "And I don't recall giving you permission to undress me."

"That's because I didn't ask for it." Eames hungrily pressed his lips against the man's again, using the hungry kisses to distract the man into letting go of his wrists. As soon as he was free Eames wrapped his arms around the other man and tipped them towards the ground, intending for them to land on the warm sand on their sides.

So it was with considerable surprise that Eames felt cool sheets instead of earth when they landed on their sides with a dull thud. Rolling them over so that he was straddling the man Eames looked down at the mattress that had appeared on the sand, the pillows and sheets standing out like neon lights against their natural backdrop. Shrugging off his shirt Eames tossed the brightly patterned material onto the sand, staring down at Arthur with a mixture of hunger and amusement. "You made the mattress appear so you wouldn't get dirty, didn't you?"

Reaching out Arthur ran his hands up the man's toned chest with sensual pleasure, licking his lips in anticipation. "So?"

"So…you are such a girl sometimes, Darling, really."

In a quick move that surprised the heck out of Eames Arthur reversed their positions in one smooth motion. "I'll show you who's a girl…Darling."

)

Opening his eyes Eames became of several things all at once. The aches and pains he felt all over his body to a brutal degree, the scents he associated with a hospital, the sound of Ariadne's voice, and the warmth and weight of her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't move, Eames." The girl said as she leaned over him, watching his dazed, drugged eyes focus in on her. "I'll get one of your doctors, just stay still, okay?"

"Alive?" He just managed to croak out, struggling to adjust to his painful reality, so very different from the perfect dream world he'd been living in for what had felt like weeks. Two weeks with Arthur, Eames thought longingly, closing his eyes as he struggled to deal. Two weeks of making love, talking, swimming, eating together. Two weeks of being just an ordinary couple vacationing on a deserted beach all their own. The two happiest weeks of his messed up, violence filled life. And now they were over. He was once again in the horrible reality that was his life without Arthur.

Ariadne smiled brightly as she nodded, unaware of his dark thoughts. "Just barely. They nearly lost you on the table six times. Your doctors have been patting each other on the back a lot today. They weren't sure you would make it through the night. Arthur knew you would though. He said you're too stubborn to die."

Her last words had Eames stiffening a little, taking her words to mean that Arthur knew about his current condition. Had Arthur…had Arthur come from the United States to see him? Did the man care about him enough to come?

"Arthur…here?"

"He's in the bed beside yours."

Immediately Eames tried to turn his head to look, too weak to even swear loudly when his body refused to cooperate. But luck was with him, Ariadne reached out and gently turned his head for him so that he could look at the bed beside his own, his eyes widening as his eyes hungrily stared at the man stretched out on the hospital bed beside his own.

Arthur was fast asleep, his one arm lying across his chest while the other lay at his side with…with an IV running out of it. But even as he thought that Eames recognized and realized just what it was that Arthur must be attached to. Eyes looking downward the forger spotted the machine, still whirling away between them so innocently. And knowing what he'd see Eames looked down at his own arm, where an identical line connected him to the machine.

"Why?" Eames croaked, more to himself than to Ariadne as he struggled to understand the implications of the machine binding him and Arthur together. The machine that would have bound them together in one, shared dream.

Not realizing he wasn't talking to her Ariadne still gave him the answers he sought. "Arthur made them let him hook you up to the machine after you coded out the sixth time. He convinced the doctors that by sharing your dream he could calm you down and keep you fighting while they operated. It worked too. You stopped coding and one of the nurses told me that it was amazing how quickly you rebounded once you two were sharing a consciousness. He's been hooked up to you since then; he's only gotten off for washroom breaks and to eat. You two have the doctors thinking seriously about trying this with other patients during surgery, they're talking about doing studies."

"How long…I been out?"

"About a day and a half. I got here about three last night and Cobbs arrived a few hours ago. He's getting food, he should be back shortly."

"When…Arthur…come?"

The girl blinked in surprise, absently adjusting his blankets as she spoke. "So you don't remember then. He didn't think you would. Arthur's the one that saved your life, Eames. He came here to stop you from taking your latest job, but there was a delay at the airport and by the time he got here it was too late for him to stop you from taking it. He found you just before they could finish you off in some alley, he said. He killed the men who were going to kill you and he's been by your side ever since. He…he's waking up." Ariadne realized, having caught sight of movement from the other man's bed.

As they both watched Arthur shifted in the bed before slowly sitting up as he sleepily oriented himself. Then the man stilled, his head whipping around to stare intently at Eames, the younger man's face giving nothing away as the two men stared at each other like the other was the only other individual in existence.

And then Arthur looked away, pulling the IV from his arm with practiced ease. Setting it on the bedside table the man rolled his shoulders, still not looking at them. And when he got his feet Arthur's focus was on Ariadne. "What time is it?"

"Lunch is on the way. It's almost two."

"Okay. Good." Arthur rubbed his eyes as he walked around Eames's bed, still stretching out the kinks as he ignored the man watching him so intently. "I'm going to freshen up a little. Be right back."

Arthur was almost at the door leading to the room's bathroom when Eames weakly called out his name. Just turning his head and speaking those words took all the strength he had at the moment, but somehow Eames managed to pull it off.

Pausing, and taking a needed deep breath, Arthur turned to look at the man questioningly, face still unreadable. "Yes?"

"Were we in my dream…or yours?"

Just the faintest hint of a smile crossed the man's lips as Arthur answered the man's question, his hands on the bathroom's doorknob. "That's a good question. Maybe by the time you're all healed I'll have an answer for you."


	2. Hold Onto That

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

Hold Onto That

Closing the bathroom door behind him Arthur leaned back against it hard, slowly letting himself slide down it until he was sitting on the floor, his tight face in his quivering hands. Though his shoulders shuddered with the effort Arthur kept himself under control, breathing slowly and deeply as he kept it together through stubborn will.

He was okay, Arthur repeated over and over again like a mantra, his fingers laced together now as if in prayer, his forehead pressed against them. His stupid, inconsiderate, smart ass gambler idiot was okay.

And he was going to make damn sure the sonofabitch paid for worrying him when this was over, Arthur thought darkly, preferring the anger to the fear. The debilitating, all consuming fear that had been choking the life out of him since he'd run into that alleyway to see Eames lying so still on the cracked and stained concrete, those two thugs standing over his with guns drawn and aimed. If Eames had been dead he would have…he didn't know but it would not have ended well for anyone, especially him.

Shaking his head, as though he could shake those thoughts from his head, Arthur once again had to focus on thoughts of his revenge to keep himself from quite possibly doing something stupid and embarrassing like crying.

As soon as the man was out of the hospital he was damn well doing to send the man right back into the hospital bed, Arthur decided, blaming the forger for his present predicament and immature behavior. Eames's damn military training wouldn't save him this time. Even if he had to take lessons and train for it, he was going to kick the shit out of the man for being so stupid.

For daring to nearly die on him.

For nearly dying before he'd ever have the guts to hit on him properly.

Leaning his head back, his eyes closed, it took Arthur longer than he would have liked to keep his dark emotions at bay. Grasping for a happy thought the point man concentrated on thinking about the way his stupid Englishman had looked at him in the other room minutes ago. Eames had never looked at him like that before. At least not outside of one of his dreams.

It was probably just the painkillers, Arthur thought sarcastically, even as his lips curved into a faint smile. The story of their relationship together. If you could even call what was between them a relationship. But that was fine with him, Arthur thought as he grasped the doorknob, using it to haul himself to his feet. Even if their reality had to be a relationship based on smart remarks and the occasional job together, at least they would have that.

Walking over to the bathroom sink Arthur turned the tap, wanting to splash some cold water on his face before he went back out again.

It was lowering to admit that he was a little bit tempted to hide out in the bathroom until Dom got back. Arthur knew his best friend would play interference for him, especially since their friendship was still smarting from the stunt his partner had pulled during their last venture together.

Drying his face Arthur took a deep breath, and then, just to be on the safe side, he pulled out his loaded die. Moving it around in his hand with his eyes closed Arthur took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and threw the totem onto the counter, watching it land as it had been designed to.

So at least the way Eames had looked at him earlier hadn't been a dream.

At least he could hold onto that.

)

Eames was in a haze, that state between being awake and being asleep, so that he was aware of what was going on around him while being apart from it as well. The doctors had been in to see him and the nurse had given him something that had him drifting off in spite of himself. He wanted to be awake and aware, Eames silently fumed at them, wanting to talk to Arthur more than he wanted to draw his next breath. Since he'd woken up the day before the other man hadn't reattached them to the dream machine which meant he had no way of communicating with the other man that didn't tire him out after a couple sentences. Plus Cobbs and Ariadne always seemed to be in the room whenever he thought he might have saved up enough strength to talk to the point man.

Resigned to the situation he was in Eames concentrated on again formulating what to say to Arthur when he was finally off the pain medication and was healthy enough to literally pin the man down if that was what it took for him to have a decent conversation with the man about the dream they had shared.

Why did Arthur only show his softer, sexier side when they were in dreams, Eames wondered bitterly, recalling how formal and aloof the younger man was towards him and everyone else in reality. The first time he'd met Arthur he'd dismissed the man as a straight arrow, so tight-laced and conservative he'd wondered at the time how the man could justify being in their kind of profession. That opinion had changed during that first heist together, Eames thought as he recalled the details in his mind like it were yesterday.

He'd been hired by Cobbs to impersonate the target's lover, to convince the man to give them access to the information they sought about the man's arms dealing in the Middle East. The job hadn't struck him as terribly interesting or worth his time, but he'd owed some people money and had seen it as a way to get his hands on the cash needed to keep those people off his back.

Things had gone smoothly at first, the setting a party at the man's estate. He'd played the man's boy toy to perfection, but the arm's dealer had had a roving eye that had settled on Arthur. So much to his shock he'd found himself told to mingle while their target headed for the point man, his interest and intent plain. Arthur had coolly shot the man down and walked away, and the arms dealer, after several shocked moments, had given chase. And he, of course, had followed after his target, Eames recalled, lost enough in the person he was impersonating to be jealous and pissed off. Cobbs had caught him before he could interfere, and they'd both listened into the conversation between the dealer and Arthur, Cobbs cool as a cucumber, and himself blown away as he'd watched Arthur morph before him into the sexy, sensual seducer he only way in dreams. He remembered it all perfectly, as if it were yesterday.

)

The conversation had taken place in the hallway near the library, Arthur pretending to study a painting as he waited for the signal that the dealer had successfully been lured into the library, where they figured the information they needed was being kept. The dealer had come up behind Arthur, trailing a suggestive finger down the man's back.

Turning around, Arthur had raised an eyebrow, the picture of sophisticated perfection in black tie. "You again. I thought I told you to go play with your boy toy. Boys like you don't interest me."

"Boys don't interest me either." The man had shot back smoothly, reaching out a hand to cup and than stroke Arthur's cheek. "And I think you and I need to get better acquainted."

"I'm not here for your amusement, and I'd imagine boys are the best you can do." Arthur had swatted the man's hand off his cheek like it was an annoying fly. "I have better things to do with my time than waste it talking to some rich little playboy whose daddy still gives him an allowance he can spend on fast cars and stupid boys." And now it was Arthur who reached out, dragging a finger down the other man's nose before flicking the end teasingly. "Shoo."

"For you information, young man, I happen to be the wealthiest, most influential person here. And my money did not come from my father. Perhaps you'd like a tour of my home, particularly the bedroom." And to emphasis his desire the dealer had placed his hands on Arthur's ass, squeezing suggestively.

Arthur had grabbed the man's wrists in a grasp tight enough to have the man moving his hands with a slightly pained expression. "I told you I'm not like one of your boys. I'm more a man than you could ever hope to be or handle. And you have yet to give me a good reason to want to handle you." And Arthur's voice took on a purring, sexy tone then that had had the dealer and Eames coming to attention in a very personal, hard way. "Why should I give you the privilege of being touched by me?"

"Because I can give you anything you might want." The dealer had offered, trying to crowd Arthur back against the wall, failing horribly.

Instead, Arthur had moved forward with an alpha presence that had had the dealer backing up instinctively. "Fine then, if this is really your place, prove it. That's the library behind you, right? There's always a safe in the library, you idiot playboys can never think of someplace more original to hide your sex tapes and porn. If you can open it I'll believe you really are the man of this house, who, from what I've heard, might be someone worth getting to know." With a hard yank Arthur had the man's tie in his hand, using it like a leash to the man's collar. "Unless you're afraid I might overpower you and take whatever's inside."

)

And just like that the dealer had been putty in Arthur's hands, Eames recalled, still lost in the vivid memory. As soon as the safe had been opened he'd charged in like the jealous lover he was supposed to be, picking a fight with the dealer while Arthur had calmly taken what they had needed. Then they'd both marched out of the room together after stating their disinterest in having anything to do with the shell shocked man. They'd gotten out clean and upon awaking Arthur had once again appeared to be the kind of man he had first assumed the point man to be, a proper gent through and through. Arthur had also been of the snobby opinion that he and Cobbs could have handled things without him.

And while that last part might have been true then, he'd known he'd been wrong about the point man, had seen a glimpse of the man Arthur could be when properly provoked, Eames thought with a sigh.

It was then he'd begun to crave those moments, wanting to bring out that sexy, sassy, dominating man in Arthur for his enjoyment alone.

And he'd had that for those two weeks, Eames thought as he struggled to open his eyes, suddenly craving even just a glimpse of the man he desired to hold and touch once more. Of Arthur. Even if it wasn't the version of Arthur he wanted, he needed to know that the man was at least still in the room with him.

Restraining hands pressing down on his shoulders lightly, Eames recognized them even before the man spoke.

"You know you aren't supposed to move. Your doctors made that clear."

Struggling to open his eyes fully Eames stared up into Arthur's face, the man's expression unreadable, but the man's hands were still touching him and that was enough for now. "Others?" He managed to get out, still too weak to move around much to see who else might be in the room with them.

"Ariadne is getting some sleep back at the hotel and Cobbs is outside talking to his kids on the phone. This is the first time he's been away from them since he came home. They're a little worried about history repeating itself."

"Kiss me then."

The younger man blinked, but didn't look surprised by the request either. "Why should I?"

"Last…request?"

"I fought too hard to keep you alive for you to cash out now." Was the point man's cool response to that idea, not about to be so easily swayed. "And you're a little old to believe that a kiss will make things all better, especially in your case."

"Please."

"Bastard."

"Never claimed…otherwise…Darling."

For several moments there was silence, and just when Eames was beginning to think the man meant to simply refuse to talk to him Arthur finally spoke in a low voice meant for the other man's ears only. "If I do will you promise to lie still and not waste what little strength you have now trying to talk to me?"

A weak nod was the best Eames could muster.

Leaning forward Arthur placed light, butterfly kisses on either side of Eames's lips before gently placing his lips solidly against the forger's, keeping the kiss as sweet and light as a first kiss was ought to be. And when he pulled away there was reluctance in Arthur's eyes that had Eames smiling a little, even as he tried to lift his head to prolong the contact.

"You promised not to move." Arthur reminded the man softly.

"You promise to stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

)

He was drifting again, aware of the sounds of the machines he was attached to and the turning of pages as Arthur read some thick volume that was no doubt very complex and thought provoking. No trashy paperbacks for his point man, Eames thought drowsily, letting himself ease into the sleep he needed to heal. Arthur had said he wouldn't leave and the man wouldn't lie to him about that, no question. But even as he relaxed completely he sensed three people coming into the room, tensing him up automatically, his heart rate picking up as he instinctively fought to regain full consciousness, even knowing that if the men meant him or Arthur harm he'd be absolutely useless.

Then Arthur's hand was stroking his head, silently communicating to him to relax. Eames took that to mean the other man knew the new arrivals, the thought confirmed when one of the men began to speak, the forger recognizing the voice of one of his surgeons.

"How's he doing?" The doctor asked.

"Better. He's aware of his surroundings as you've noticed. He knows who he is and who we are. The nurse who was in here a couple of hours ago indicated he seemed to be improving by the hour." Arthur told the doctor, Eames savoring the sound of the other man's voice since the point man had moved his hand away now.

"That's good." One of the other doctors informed the point man. "And given how much he's improved we'd like to take him into surgery to finish the work on his left leg. As we explained earlier we opted to leave that since the other wounds were more life threatening and we didn't want to keep him on the table longer than was necessary. His body has had time to rebound from the strain of the first surgery, and what we need to do is minimal, but necessary if his leg is to heal properly. He's recovering very fast and he strikes us as the type who will be out of here as soon as he has enough strength to walk."

Arthur nodded with a light chuckle before his face went serious again. "I've read his charts and talked to the nurses, they told me about the necessity of a second surgery and what it would entail."

The first doctor spoke again. "We've scheduled it for tomorrow morning at ten, provided he continued to show his present improvement."

"And we hope you will agree to do as you did in the first surgery." The third, previously unknown doctor said, a hint of eagerness in his young voice. "We'd like to hook you both up to some machines of our own, to study your brain activity during the surgery. We're very interested to see how your…dream connection…might be used to help patients deal with the mental strain of surgery."

Eames would have shaken his head in amusement at the idea if he'd had the strength.

"Yes, that was mentioned to me too." There was no hint of amusement in Arthur's voice as he gave the doctors his full attention. "And while I understand the benefits and your interest, it won't do you any good."

"And why is that?" The second doctor asked.

"Because what you three fail to understand is that dreams are Eames's and mine's business. It's what we know. We've spent countless hours that were like days in each other's dreams for training. And more, we know how to handle ourselves and each other in those dreams. Without that kind of groundwork even a loved one would be in danger of causing distress in a dream, especially with an unstable dream partner. I chose my dreamscape so that he would think it was his and my mind didn't reject his presence and additions to the dream because even my subconscious knows that he would never do me or my mind harm. Even if you had an architect to build a world for the patient and his or her loved one, there would be as much chance of the dream hindering the patient's recovery as helping it."

So it had been Arthur's dream, Eames mused in satisfaction, even as he mentally objected to being though of as unstable. Though that would have been true enough. Had it been a stranger in his dream, his mind would have automatically rebelled, his mind and body feeling additional stress which would have likely finished him off. But it had been Arthur, so he'd felt no need to pull up his defenses and had simply relaxed into the world they'd created between them. He'd never once thought the dream wasn't his while he was asleep, that was how good Arthur had crafted that beach for him.

What had happened between them had been as real as one could get in a dream.

If he got the chance, he was going to talk the doctors into hooking him and Arthur up during his leg surgery.

He and Arthur had a lot to talk about.


	3. What He Said

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

What He Said

Eames got his way and the two were hooked up to the dream machine together when it was time for his surgery to begin. Arthur had a seat at the head of the operating table, putting him out of everyone's way. The machine was set up beside the point man, Cobbs there as well to start the machine up and monitor the whole process just in case. Eames and Arthur were both hooked up to numerous machines to study their brain waves, despite the fact that Arthur, Ariadne and Cobbs had all told the doctors it was a pointless endeavor. The medicals were still interested, and since they'd saved Eames's life Arthur hadn't had the heart to turn them down after his annoying forger had said yes to the idea.

When it was time Cobbs patted his best friend's shoulder as he reached out with his other hand to press the button. "You two play nice."

Neither man answered as they fell into slumber.

Blinking into the dream Eames looked around, taking in the beach setting once more with a wide smile. Even better was the fact that he was once again in control of his body. It felt damn good to move without aching every bloody where, the forger thought as he stretched his arms over his head All the better to pin you down with, my Darling, Eames thought wolfishly as he started down the sandy shore, looking for his point man.

He found the man on the porch of the beach cottage they had lived in for the two week dream they had shared earlier. The man was wearing his habitual suit, which automatically clued Eames into the fact that the younger man had no intention of pretending this was simply a dream. This was just another form of reality to Arthur and the man wasn't going to behave as he had the last time.

The gloves were back on so to speak.

Challenged by that knowledge Eames walked up the short steps that led to the porch, moving to lean against the railing so that he was facing Arthur. "Hello, Darling."

"You might as well take a seat, Eames." Was Arthur's cool reply from his seat, his eyes hidden behind his designer sunglasses. "You shouldn't over do it, even if this is just a dream. You're still healing."

"And if I said I'd prefer some sexual healing?" Eames drawled out, his hands in the pockets of his cutoff jeans for the moment. His newest offensively tacky Hawaiian shirt was open, his plan having been to pounce as soon as his point man came into view after all.

They were, as always, a study in contrasts.

Arthur's lips didn't so much as twitch at the man's teasing words. "Then I'd say you're out of luck."

Eames knew that tone of voice. That was Arthur's 'Don't think for one minute you can change my mind' voice. He loved that voice. Mostly because he loved screwing with the other man on every level, the forger mentally acknowledged with a wide grin. There was nothing Arthur hated more than losing control of himself and whatever situation they happened to be in. And since he had every intention of changing the man's mind Eames foresaw plenty of fun in their dreamy future. Fun for him anyway.

"So you're saying that there's nothing I could do that would change your mind?" Eames asked, throwing out that little gauntlet.

There was no emotion in Arthur's voice as he answered. "I'm saying that you're out of your sex obsessed mind if you think I'm going to get physical with you while our brains are hooked up to all those damn machines."

Opening his mouth to complain the words died on Eames's tongue when he realized what Arthur was getting at. Not that he knew a lot about the human brain, but he did know that the brain surgeons and such had a lot of it mapped out. As in they could possibly know, from looking at the scans, that the two of them had, at the very least, been aroused by the other's company. Then there was the fact that their present sedation was a lot lighter than what they'd had earlier. Before Arthur had had no time to dilute the mix, he'd had to go with what he'd had on hand. This time around they could quite possibly react to what they were dreaming about.

And Arthur got fairly vocal the closer he came to orgasm.

He wasn't at all keen for anyone other than him to witness any aspect of Arthur's sexiness.

"Shit. Hoisted by my own petard."

Arthur reached up and tipped down his shades so that he could look at Eames, his surprise obvious. "You actually know what petard means?"

Not for a million dollars would Eames admit that he'd only been repeating something he'd heard on an episode of 'Family Guy'. "I know things." He said instead, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I know a lot of things you don't."

"Things I bet I don't want to know." Arthur returned as he pushed the sunglasses back into place. Thank God for them, the point man thought to himself, having to work hard to keep a straight face. The Hawaiian shirt was somewhat bearable through the darkened lenses. The reality offended him on too many levels to count. Deliberate on Eames's part no doubt. The forger would know that he'd want to get the man out of it as soon as possible.

"Well I don't know about that." Eames drawled out as he straightened, walking over to take a seat beside Arthur, tipping back his chair as he took in the view. "I rather thought you enjoyed some of the things I introduced you to the last time we vacationed here. Is this a real beach by the by?"

"It is."

Eames grinned, having hoped that would be the other man's answer. "Most excellent. So once I'm out of the bloody hospital can we come here? On a real vacation together."

"When you're well enough to leave the hospital you and I are going to New York."

Looking over at Arthur Eames's grin widened. And here he'd thought he'd have to guilt trip the guy into it. "I'm going home with you, then? You might have mentioned that earlier. Not that I don't like the idea, mind you. In fact, I think it's the best one you've possibly ever had."

Arthur rolled his eyes behind his glasses. It was most certainly not the best idea he'd ever had. It was going to be one of the stupidest things he'd ever done. And even knowing that he was still going to do it, which made him incredibly stupid indeed, Arthur summed up in his head. But it went without saying that Eames wouldn't take proper care of himself. Not to mention the fact that the forger would just follow him back to New York anyway. That last dream had seen to that. He'd given the other man a taste of what could be between them and now Eames was obviously determined to get more.

"Can I ask you a question, Darling?"

"You're going to ask regardless."

"True enough." Eames acknowledged, his face going somewhat serious as he watched Arthur intently, fighting back the desire to remove the sunglasses that shielded the man's eyes from him. "Why did you let me have you? You've done nothing but spurn me in reality. And for people like us…dreams are as much our reality as our waking lives are. What happened between us was real, regardless of where it took place."

The faintest of smirks crossed Arthur's lips. "As I recall I had you a great deal more than you had me."

"I was injured."

Arthur couldn't help but really smirk at that one. "Excuses, excuses. Typical man."

"You know, darling, seeing as you're a man you're insulting yourself there too."

Reaching up again Arthur tipped down his glasses and gave the forger a hot look that was designed to fry the man's circuits. "I'm anything but typical, Eames."

"True enough." And knowing that Arthur had added the hot look to distract him Eames gave the other man a look that said he wasn't going to fall for it. "Now how about answering my question, Arthur, before I assume you haven't the guts to?"

Thanks to his former and current profession Arthur considered himself a first class liar. He was very good at convincing people to believe whatever he wanted them to believe in order for things to move in his own best interests. Of course Eames was just as skilled a liar, better even, though the point man was loathed to admit it. But his skills were sufficient enough that Arthur imagined he could lie his way through an explanation the forger would buy. Unfortunately he had yet to come up with a believable excuse. Which meant he would either have to wing it or tell the truth, Arthur thought with an inner grimace.

He did not do well winging things.

"We've always been attracted to each other." Arthur said simply, opting to be as pithy as possible. "What happened is a result of that."

"That doesn't really answer my question, Arthur."

"That's the best you're going to get, Eames."

)

An hour or so later Eames started to come out of his induced slumber, the forger feeling decidedly crappy both as a result of the pain and Arthur's evasiveness. The man was harder to crack than the third level of a man's subconscious, Eames thought darkly as he lay where he was, too worn out and tired to even attempt to open his eyes. Drifting sounded like a damn good idea to him at the moment, especially since he could hear the sound of pages being turned at his side and smell the other man's cologne. Arthur was there, watching over him as usual, the forger thought tiredly. He could drift without worry for the time being.

When the door opened and someone walked in Eames started to tense, then relaxed again when he sensed no tension from Arthur. Not surprisingly, the interruption was one of his doctors. Again.

"Are you enjoying your book?" The doctor asked Arthur, a smiled on his face as he motioned to the novel in question. "I'm a great fan of his, I enjoyed that one in particular."

"It's not my first time reading it, but I always find something new to appreciate every time I read one of his works. Are you here to look over Eames? I'm afraid he's still out for the moment." More like sleep pouting, Arthur mentally amended, looking over in the forger's direction. People like them tended to wake up a lot quicker than most, their systems use to having to throw off sedation quickly in order to increase their chances of survival. That Eames was still motionless and apparently unconscious was a testament to the man's determination to remain so.

Their version of the silent treatment, Arthur thought with a smile.

"You should do that more often." The doctor said smoothly, drawing Arthur's attention back to him, explaining himself when the point man gave him a questioning look. "I was referring to your smile. You're even more attractive when you do."

Was his doctor HITTING on Arthur? Throwing off sleep effortlessly Eames's mind went on high alert while he listened to Arthur thank the doctor for the compliment. Which doctor was it? What did he look like? Using the man's voice as an indicator Eames identified the doctor as the one who'd been so gung-ho to hook them up to the brain machines in the first place. Not a bad looking chap, though nowhere near his own league, Eames assured himself, even as he wondered if the man's brains would make up for his lack of brawn in Arthur's eyes.

Shit. Damn. Fuck A Duck.

This was not good. Not good at all.

Flattered by the look in the doctor's eyes Arthur continued to smile at the man, though the other man wasn't his type. It was still nice to be complimented. "I'm sorry again if Eames got your hopes up about the possibility of dream assistance during surgery. That area isn't exactly his area of expertise and he mostly wanted us to be hooked up so that we could have a lucid and coherent conversation."

"No need to apologize, I assure you. Actually, I've been turning the idea around in my head and I think that perhaps I could adapt my ideas for therapy afterwards. Time spent in a hospital can have a negative affect on patient morale and their recovery time as a result. I was actually hoping that I could talk you into joining me for dinner this evening to discuss the possibilities. I'm sure that I'd find your company as fascinating as the topic."

I'll kill him, Eames thought as he tried to remember every piece of medical equipment currently within his reach. There weren't any scalpels or syringes nearby, more the pity, but there had to be something nearby that he could use to make sure the man was in no condition to even think about stealing Arthur from him. Worst case scenario, he'd strangle the arrogant bastard with the prat's own necktie.

"You don't need to buy me dinner to get information." Arthur replied, buying himself time while he tried not to give away the fact that he'd sense the change in Eames's formerly unconscious status. The man was playing possum, he was sure of it.

Setting one hand on the point man's chair the doctor leaned in to smile seductively at Arthur. "I'd buy you dinner for just the pleasure of looking at you across the table."

Flustered as hell Arthur was thrown off balance enough not to immediately respond.

Meanwhile, having come to the depressing conclusion that he was in no condition to take the smooth talking bastard down, Eames was far from prepared to accept that the outcome of this conversation lay in Arthur's hands. He'd welcome castration with welcoming arms first. And having always been better than Arthur at thinking on his feet Eames came up with a quick plan that he inwardly grinned over.

Moving restlessly in his 'sleep', Eames put on a pretty good show of pretending to be fighting his way into consciousness from a dream, murmuring incoherently for a couple moments before making damn sure every word he said was perfectly audible.

"God, Arthur, Luv, yeah, just like that. I want you bucking and screaming, Baby, and I'm not stopping till you do. Yeah, you know you like that, the way you look when I-OWWWWWWWWW!"

Yelping hard Eames's eyes flew open as his ear was violently twisted in a move that had him forgetting about his little ploy. "Dammit, Arthur! That really smarts you know!"

"I'd apologize for him, but there'd be little point." Arthur informed the doctor after giving the forger's ear one last hard yank before letting go. "If I apologized to everyone Eames has ever manipulated I'd be doing it until I was in the grave myself. And as for your offer, let's discuss that outside, shall we?"

And not about to take any chances Arthur took the very confused doctor by the arm and dragged him across the room and out the door while Eames's called out for them to get their arses back in the room.

)

Closing the door sharply behind them Arthur's cheekbones were faintly tinged with color as he turned around to fact the doctor, his fury with Eames competing with his embarrassment over what the forger had said and implied. There was also the voice in the back of his head that reminded him of why Eames had said what he'd said, which didn't help him either. But first things first.

"Thank you for your compliments and your invitation to dinner, but I'm afraid I have to decline. At this point my acceptance would only give you the wrong impression about my interest. While I would greatly enjoy Eames reaction if I said yes, I don't believing in using people unless it's absolutely necessary."

"You and Mr. Eames are involved?" The doctor asked hesitantly, obviously unsure of his next step where Arthur was concerned. "If so I apologize for my earlier request, I didn't realize the two of you were a couple."

"We're not. Or at least not in an official way that would prohibit us from accepting dinner invitations from outside parties. It's complicated. Extremely complicated"

"Obviously."

Arthur lifted out a hand to the doctor, shaking it when the doctor accepted. "Thank you again for the offer though. I'm sure it would have been a lovely and memorable evening."

"Anytime. Good luck with your…complication."

"I'll need it." Bidding goodbye to the doctor Arthur watched him walk out of sight before he turned around to face Eames's door. There wasn't any sound of muffled yelling so either Eames was back to the silent treatment or the man had worn himself out with his little tirade.

Hoping it was the second Arthur opened the door again and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Eames's head was turned towards him, the man's fierce gaze all but drilling a hole through him as he walked over to take his seat. Deliberately Arthur retrieved his book from the man's bedside table and settled himself back into his chair.

"Arthur." His tone of voice said it all. Eames was seriously pissed and wanted to know just how pissed off he needed to be.

"Eames." Arthur returned, his voice saying plainly that he was just as pissed but cold about it.

The two men looked at each other, the tension so thick you could cut a knife with it.

And stepping into the room Ariadne and Cobbs took one look and promptly turned on their heels and headed back out of the room.

They weren't stupid after all.


	4. Up In Arms

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

Happy Easter!

Up In Arms

Eames was tempted to drum his fingers, but he figured that he needed to reserve all the strength he could since he might still have to kill someone. He was fairly sure that Arthur hadn't shown any interest in the doctor earlier, and the point man wasn't the type to go out with someone just to spite him…probably. And if Arthur had intended to say yes then surely the two would have remained in the room, just so the doctor would know that the other man wasn't really taken. Since staring pointedly wasn't doing him any good, and finger drumming was out, Eames was stuck trying to verbally gain the man's attention.

"You know what I want to know."

"Say please."

Knowing Arthur's response was the man's way of paying him back for his earlier behavior did nothing to keep Eames's anger from flaring past molten. It took every ounce of training he had not to snarl the one word response. "Please."

Not looking up from his book Arthur answered. "No, I'm not having dinner with him."

"Because you're mine." Eames stated firmly, his voice broking no argument on this point.

That statement had Arthur looking up, meeting the man's gaze for several meaningful heartbeats. Raising his left hands the point man wiggled his fingers at the forger. "My ring finger says differently. In fact, I just plain say differently. Now shut up and go back to sleep before you hurt yourself. The nurses said we could leave in two days if your present rate of recovery continues."

After a long, drawn out silence Eames spoke.

"You have an incredibly talent for pissing me off, Darling."

"Likewise."

Silence reigned between the two, Eames continuing to stare at Arthur while the man continued to read, or pretended to. The trying painfulness of the silence ate at both of them though, like a living thing that climbed over their skins like poisonous insects, eating away at their protective, stubborn shields.

Arthur broke first.

"Stick in the mud. Prude. Unimaginative. Anal. Prick. Vulcan. Prissy. Guy whose chair you like to kick out from under him with unholy glee whenever possible. Ring any bells?"

Eames blinked a couple times, wincing as he got the other man's point. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said I meant those names in a teasing, I like you sort of way?"

"Since we're not seven, no, that excuse doesn't fly, sorry."

"Well it's not like you haven't said mean things to me too." Eames huffed, trying to hunch his shoulders without a lot of success. He'd taken a bullet to one after all and the muscle damage was still letting itself be known in very painful ways. "And it's not like I don't like some of those things about you. They're what make you you. And who doesn't like knocking people out of chairs? Seriously."

Arthur didn't think that question dignified an answer.

Sensing they were back to the silence unless he was talking Eames called up what strength he had as he tried to figure out what he could say to make the man understand that all those things he'd said hadn't been meant to hurt the other man's feelings, which he was now sensing they had.

"What can I say or promise to do that would make you believe I'm genuinely sorry for hurting your feelings?"

Eyes dark and unreadable Arthur set aside his book, giving the forger his full attention for the first time since he'd come back into the room. "You're assuming I care what you think of me enough to be hurt by your silly nicknames. But I accept your apology." He added, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "I know you didn't mean them in a bad way. If you had you'd have been more vicious about it. I've heard you verbally tear people to shreds before. AND you were in the army."

"If you didn't care and hadn't been hurt by them then why did you bring them up in the first place?" Eames countered, sensing that he might be getting close to some answers he'd been searching for for a rather long time.

Arthur had to call up some strength of his own, weakening under the force of Eames's stare. The man had to be in pain, but the forger was solely focused in on him at the moment. Ready to hang off of any word he might speak. And knowing that had the point man struggling to keep his own emotions and needs at bay.

"I brought them up because even though you didn't mean them to be cruel you meant them. That's how you see me, I know you do. And that being the case what would be the point in starting a relationship with you? I'm not your type, Eames. I'm just the one that's always gotten away."

"You were the last thing I thought of when I lost consciousness after being shot. You were all I was thinking about. It doesn't matter that you aren't my type, or maybe it does. Maybe that's proof that I'm more serious about you than I've ever been about anyone else."

Eyes widening at the implications of the other man's words Arthur didn't know what to say. He couldn't blame it on the man's medications, Eames was in the process of coming down from them after all, not up. And he heard the sincerity, the emotion behind it all.

"Do you delight in messing with my head?" Arthur finally asked, confusion and weariness coating his words, as he fought the urge to run an annoyed hand through his hair.

Eames's lips twitched. "One of my favorite things."

"Well at least one of us is enjoying it."

)

Much later that night Arthur found himself watching a movie on the room's television that he couldn't even understand owing to the fact that it wasn't in English. Luckily he'd seen the movie enough times that he knew the plot and characters, and didn't need a translation. Eames had been watching along with him but a nurse had come in and was now checking the forger over. Glancing at the two out of the corner of his eye Arthur could see that the man was cooperating but miserable. The man hated to be treated like an invalid, even when he was one, and that was precisely what the nurse was currently doing. And the things she was getting him to do were only reminding the other man of just how weak and defenseless he was. Which Eames hated even more than being treated like an invalid. Eames was a man who prided himself on being strong. Every reminder that he wasn't had to be a slap in the face and ego. Not to mention the fact that the man's ego was already smarting from earlier, when he'd been unable to physically stake his claim the way he'd wanted to. There wasn't a doubt in Arthur's mind that the forger would have been up in that doctor's face if he could have.

Knowing Eames wouldn't want him to be watching Arthur pretended to keep his attention on the movie, even after the nurse left, but he glanced over often enough to know that Eames wasn't paying the movie the least amount of attention anymore. The man was lost in his thoughts, and obviously not liking them.

It was when the movie got to one of his favorite scenes that an idea occurred to Arthur, one that would no doubt make Eames feel better. At least for a little while. It was a risk, but then Eames had put himself out there earlier when they'd been arguing about the possibility of a relationship between them. This was a small way he could…make up for delivering a kick when the man was already down. Not that Eames hadn't deserved his anger for the stunt he'd pulled, Arthur thought darkly, but still, he could have been a little…nicer about it. If he'd come in on one of the nurses hitting on the man, male or female, he probably would have been pissed too. He would have handled it better than Eames had, but he wouldn't have liked it.

And he was sick of being…well…a stick in the mud. Of holding back. Of denying them both. He could use the excuse that it would be just another dream, but that didn't wash for either of them. The dreams they had were too real for them to make that excuse fly. And wasn't he always getting mad at the man for not making a proper move, Arthur thought with a rueful smile.

Well the man had made his move so to speak, which meant it was time for him to man up and…and make a good kind of move too, Arthur decided. The point of his plan wasn't about sex anyway. If that happened…well it would be his dream to manipulate as he needed to.

Getting to his feet before his common sense returned and he could rethink his decision, Arthur looked over at the other man, who'd turned to look at him as soon as he'd moved. "I'll be back. I shouldn't be gone more than fifteen minutes."

"Where are you going?" Eames wanted to know, his eyes watchful.

"Just a question I need to get answered. I won't be long."

Watching the point man leave Eames wondered what the man was up to. He wasn't going to see that doctor, it was too late for dinner and Arthur had said that he'd turned the guy's invitation down. Of course Arthur was a very good liar too, a little voice in his head pointed out. But he'd said he was coming right back and surely Arthur wouldn't lie about that.

Not that he could chase after the man if he was lying, Eames thought bitterly as his eyes turned back to the screen where a major action sequence was going on. He wasn't up to going to the bathroom by himself, much tracking down Arthur and making the point man do anything he didn't want to do. Not that he'd had much luck making the stubborn man do anything he didn't want to do when he was healthy, but at least there had always been that option in the back of his mind.

Now he was so weak that just turning around in the bloody bed wore him out.

But as promised Arthur was back before the movie had ended, returning to his seat like he'd simply gone to the bathroom or to make a call. What have you been up to, Darling, Eames silently wondered as he studied the man's handsome profile. Hmmm? Where did you go and what has you keeping it a secret from me?

By the time the movie had ended he still didn't have his answer, and Eames watched the man shut off the television with a finality that had his senses tingling. Something was up. Something was definitely up.

As Eames watched the other man set the clicker back on the table, and then walked around his hospital bed towards the empty one beside it. The point man stooped down and retrieved a briefcase from under that bed with a telling casualness. The briefcase, Eames knew, contained the dream machine. With eyes widening Eames watched the man set the case down on the bedside table between the two beds and start to take out the IVs.

"Arthur…why?"

Rather then answer Arthur walked over and reached down to grasp the forger's wrist, pausing for a moment. "Yes or no, Eames?"

"Hell yes."

)

When Eames opened his eyes within the dream it took a great deal of effort not to laugh as he looked around him. They were in that scene from the movie, Eames realized, taking in all the half dressed men and women around him, wearing traditional Ancient Egyptian garbs. It was the scene where Evie remembered her past life as an Egyptian princess through her fight with the adulterous bitch her father had been planning to hook up with. Even as he watched the two women went at each other with various kinds of weapons, and since he already knew how it would end the man turned his attention to trying to find Arthur in the scene. Finally he spotted the man standing near the pharaoh, looking every inch the noble he was obviously pretending to be from the finery he was wearing and his position on the pedestal.

Curious as to who he was in this scenario Eames looked at the men by him, seeing that he was with the good guys with all the tattoos, the kings personal bodyguards. Now he really wished that he had a mirror or something, to see his tattoos for himself. But he couldn't, so he turned his eyes back to the scene playing out as it had in the movie.

But then it changed, for the fight between the two women didn't signal the end of the fighting. Instead, after the bad girl left and shared her little look with the movie's bad guy, the pharaoh announced there would be one more fight for them to watch. That his son and heir would be testing his strength against one of the men assigned to protect him.

Arthur stepped down after receiving a back slap of encouragement from his dream father, pulling a sword from his jeweled belt. And lifting the blade Arthur pointed it at Eames, indicating that he'd chosen who he would test his abilities against.

And in that moment Eames realized what the point man was up to. Arthur knew him well after all.

Staying in character Eames bowed his head like it was a great honor and then broke ranks to face off against the other man, drawing his own sword from its sheath. His sword was a lot bigger, Eames thought with an inner grin, but size wasn't everything.

They waited for the pharaoh's signal and then moved in with a skill that neither really possessed in real life. But this wasn't the real world and in the dream they were capable of most anything. And yet it still felt real, because to them dreams were as much a reality as their waking lives.

He had more muscle, more training, but Arthur had agility and an innate grace that gave him advantages as well. Eames wasn't surprised that the man was putting up a good fight, and not just because they were in their own reality. Parrying and thrusting, back and forth as sweat began to gleam on their naked flesh. The work out had both their chests heaving, air coming out in pants as muscles strained and flexed as they sought to relieve the other of his weapon without causing injury.

Glorying in the fight, the challenge, Eames had to work hard not to grin like an idiot.

It was especially hard to do when he successfully managed to disarm the man minutes later.

Arthur accepted his defeat well, nodding his acknowledgment of his loss before turning to receive his compliments from his father and sister.

Moving off to the side so that he stayed in character Eames blinked as the dream abruptly shifted, so that suddenly he found himself standing on a stone balcony. A balcony that overlooked Ancient Egypt at night, Eames realized as he instinctively moved up to the railing, looking out over it. Trust Arthur to put this much detail into it, the forger thought as he looked over at the other man.

Still dressed in his Egyptian finery Arthur was staring out over the balcony as well, paying him no attention for the moment.

Forgetting all about staying in character Eames walked over to stand directly behind the other man, who tensed at the invasion of his personal space.

"And what do you think you are doing, Medjai?"

Blinking at the man's cool, pompous response Eames had to grin before he forced his face into neutral lines, realizing that the man was staying in character despite the fact that they were now the only two individuals around. Which, Eames thought with a wicked gleam in his eye, could be very, very interest depending on how willing the man was play.

"It is my job to keep you safe." Eames informed the man, in as humble a voice as he could manage. "I'm merely sticking as close to you as possible, so that no one can touch you." No one but me, Eames silently added.

"So you would risk me ordering your hands cut off for your insolence, to protect your future pharaoh from harm?" Arthur returned, continuing to stare out into the cool desert landscape like he didn't really care what the man's answer was.

Eames's reply was one he meant from the bottom of his heart. "I would risk everything to protect you from harm."

Now Arthur slowly turned around, their bodies rubbing against each other's as their eyes met. For the moment the point man's gaze was unreadable as he watched the forger, though his tone had softened a little. "Everything?"

"Everything." Eames agreed as he leaned forward, pressing his lips up against the other man's while his arms came around the thinner man's waist as he drew Arthur up against him.


	5. Reality of Them

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and review.

Reality of Them

Kissing him back just as hungrily Arthur pushed the head piece off of his lover's head so that he could dive his fingers into Eames's short hair, groaning his approval as he was sandwiched between the other man and the railing at his back. He'd been kidding himself that there was even the slightest chance that this wasn't how the dream would play out, Arthur silently admitted to himself. When he'd gone into that dream with Eames, after the idiot had been shot, he'd known that he was opening a door to this, one he wouldn't be able to close. It was time he was the better man he knew himself to be and accept the inadvertable. Accept that they'd always been meant to be this way, for better or worst.

Sensing that Arthur was completely and knowingly accepting what was between them, giving himself over to him completely, Eames made a sound of victory low in his throat, breaking off the kiss so that he could ravish the point man's neck with hard, sucking kisses and quick, blood heating nips.

Opening his legs wider so that the forger could settle more fully against him Arthur rubbed himself up against the man like a well pleasured cat, urging the man on with pleasure filled gasps and groans.

Grinning wickedly against the taller man's neck Eames laved his tongue up his lover's neck and then pulled away and dropped to his knees in front of a startled Arthur. "You're going to want to hold onto the railing, Darling." The forger's tone of voice said it all.

Quivering in response Arthur did as asked, fingers digging into the wooden railing, gasping when Eames reached out and hooking those big, strong hands he loved so much under his legs to boost him up so that the forger could place those legs onto his broad shoulders. And then Eames head was ducking under the cloth encircling his waist, the forger going to work sliding his tongue against something a great deal more sensitive than Arthur's neck.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

Chuckling, Eames's words were muffled but audible. "The future pharaoh calling out to Christian figures of worship. What would your subjects say, Darling?"

"Screw them." Swearing wasn't his thing, but the feel of the man's whiskers against his inner thighs was doing things to his brain that had Arthur struggling not to melt into a puddle of hormones. His arms were vibrating with the effort it was taking for him to support his upper body, his heels digging into the forger's back as the man continued to torment him with his tongue, denying him what he really wanted.

Rather than answer or comment Eames went to work driving the man to the edge of reason with his tongue until his point man was bucking against him, ordering him in an incredibly sexy and desperate voice to quit tormenting him and fucking do it.

And when his man started using the F word you knew he meant business, the forger thought with a grin as he submitted and gave the other man what he wanted, taking Arthur's erection into his mouth with a sound of pure pleasure. The way that the weird kilt, skirt thing was designed meant that he didn't have much room to move his head, but that somehow made it that much sexier.

Not that they had problems generating sexy between them.

Throwing his head back Arthur stared up at the night sky, feeling the cold desert air blow over the sweat breaking out over his body as Eames's mouth drove him closer and closer to the brink of orgasm with knowing skill. His man's professional choices had made him sensitive to the tells and body language of others and God, had the forger ever learned just what he liked and how he liked it, Arthur thought as he abandoned himself to the pleasure, mindless to everything else.

The two of them was all that mattered.

Crying out when he climaxed Arthur dug his heels into the man's back reflectively, sagging as he forgot all about needing to hold on to something.

Firmly grasping the other man's hips Eames slipped out from under him, gathering Arthur into his arms when he'd regained his feet, savoring the way the man's arms came up to wrap around him in a loving embrace. It was probably just to keep him on his feet as he recovered, but as he licked his lips the forger decided there was no harm in thinking Arthur simply wished to be held by him, to hold him in turn.

When he was sure he was up to standing without support Arthur captured Eames's lips with his own in a passionate, very grateful kiss, savoring the tastes of both of them mixed together as his tongue made a thorough exploration of the forger's delicious mouth.

Arthur waited until air was necessary before breaking off the kiss with a sexy pop, rubbing up against the forger seductively. "It's time to retire to my chambers. There's a pot of honey in there with your name on it."

"As you wish." Eames all but purred back, seeing that the point man had plans. Plans he was really, really going to like if the gleam in the other man's eyes were anything to go by.

And even if he hadn't…he'd follow Arthur anywhere.

)

Three Weeks Later

Pulling out his wallet with careful precision Eames pulled out the necessary bills to hand over to the taxi driver, telling him to keep the change. Letting himself out Eames didn't even mind using his annoying cane as he headed towards the building's front door, a spring in his step as he whistled a merry tune under his breath. Saluting his thanks to the doorman who opened the door for him Eames called out over his shoulder that they'd chat later. Ordinarily he would have stopped to talk a little, especially given how badly the other man's football team had done the night before, but today was no ordinary day.

Today he had a note in his pocket from Arthur's doctor confirming that he was healed enough for sex.

Rubbing his hands in glee as he stepped into the elevator Eames pressed the button for the top floor and then leaned back against the cool steel, wanting to conserve every bit of energy he could. He had plans, oh but he had plans. And while he wasn't up to a number of them yet he was damn well going to have Arthur as soon as he got to their place.

Okay, it was technically Arthur's place, but he'd been living there for nearly three weeks and already he had stuff spread out around the penthouse apartment. And Arthur wasn't the type to allow just anyone to do that which was a good sign that he was there to stay. They were living together as a couple, being a couple. At least Arthur was willing to admit that much, Eames thought, still smug over the fact that when the point man's mother had called her son earlier in the week she'd left a message saying she couldn't wait to meet her baby's man and that he sounded absolutely charming.

That she'd let it slip that she'd been worried about Arthur given how long he'd been single before hooking up with him had just been icing on his cake.

Her baby definitely wasn't single now and very shortly Eames intended to physically make his claim known in the most pleasurable of ways.

They'd been hooking themselves up to the dream machine pretty often because until today the doctor had made it clear that there would be no hanky panky allowed and Arthur was following the doctor's advice like the man was the reincarnation of Christ. He's eaten more vegetables and taken more vitamins and minerals in the last couple weeks then he had in a very long time.

But it was all going to be worth it.

Letting himself into the apartment when he arrived the forger immediately went in search of Arthur, finding the man in his office, working away on his laptop while listening to the classical music that he was learning to tolerate since his man liked the crap for some strange reason.

Looking up from his work Arthur's lips curved into a smile before he could stop himself. The man's grin said it all. "I take it your check up went well."

"Come over here and I'll show you how well it went, Darling."

Rolling his eyes for form Arthur pushed back his chair and got to his feet, coming around his desk and after a considering pause walked over and into the forger's arms, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist as he allowed the man a quick, heated kiss before pulling back, his eyes serious. "You better have a note saying you were given the all clear, Eames. I know better than to take your word for it." The forger had been trying to talk him into going to bed with him since before he'd graduated from a hospital bed to a regular bed.

Reaching into his front pocket with his free hand, Eames pulled out an envelope, waving it like it was a Lucky Lotto ticket. "Here it is. He figured you wouldn't take my word for it either."

"I wonder why." Taking the envelope from him Arthur quickly ripped it open and withdrew the single sheet of paper within. Reading over the message the point man couldn't help but laugh over the contents. "Did you read this before he put it in the envelope?"

"No." Eames said slowly, sensing that his plans for the rest of the day were being threatened. "Why?"

Arthur just held out the paper and waited for the man to explode. He didn't have to wait long.

"Son of a bloody bitch! That gobshite!" Eames swore as he stared down at the words scrawled across the prescription pad. According to this he could have sex but the doctor had advised Arthur to take top and do most of the work. "That's…no…no that's not fair. Don't listen to him, Darling. I know he's a friend of yours but he doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm as fit as a fucking fiddle."

The forger's words definitely had a ring of panic to them, Arthur thought in amusement as he struggled not to burst out laughing.

"Right, that's not you groaning in your sleep because you turned the wrong way. My mistake. There must have been someone else in bed with us that I failed to notice." Gripping the collar of the man's leather jacket Arthur tugged on either side teasingly before lowering his head to capture the other man's lips in a kiss designed to wipe the worried pout off his forger's lips.

They'd come a long way in the three weeks they'd been living together, Arthur thought as he let the forger deepen the kiss, opening his mouth eagerly as their tongues met and mated together. He'd become used to this, to the pleasure of kissing the man, being held by him. Of knowing the forger was his and his alone to touch. He wouldn't say they'd bonded, that was way too girlie sounding, but they had a better understanding of each other and were working on…learning how to live with the other on a regular basis.

And Arthur couldn't recall every enjoying something so much…except when Eames was annoying the hell out of him and vice versa.

Reaching out the point man began undoing the buttons of the other man's shirt, smiling at the sound of pleasure Eames made as he pushed the shirt and jacket off the forger's shoulders. He also made no move to stop him when Eames tossed his cane out of their way and impatiently began assisting him in removing his own sweater.

As soon as they were naked from the waist up their hands got busy running over the other's skin, knowing from countless dreams and brief, frustrating make out sessions just how the other liked to be touched. Eames's body was indeed much better than it had been, but the damage was still apparent and Arthur was carefully where he touched and how.

Subtly herding the other man towards the bedroom Arthur shed his remaining clothing as he went, helping Eames with his as well since he didn't want the man doing anything he didn't have to so that he'd have the strength and endurance for what they'd both been anticipating.

Man he hoped Eames was up to this.

Hoping the same thing Eames feasted on the point man's neck as they stumbled into the bedroom, ignoring the small complaints his body was making. And dammit, Arthur was going to insist on taking top thanks to his damn quack friend. Double damn. But this was real, Eames reminded himself, relishing the pulse that beat so frantically against his seeking lips. He was finally going to get to make love to the man with no machines or cop outs to be had.

This was as real as it got.

Sweaty, down and dirty, Eames thought as he lifted his head to crush his lips against Arthur's. Frantic and desperate, hungry and all consuming.

Groaning low in his throat Arthur could barely think about what he was doing as he moved further into the room. Turning the kiss into quick, slanting kisses, the point man didn't break off the contact until he backed up against his bed's headboard.

Pulling back Arthur stared down into Eames's eyes, panting as he struggled to maintain. "Get on the bed."

Eames leaned in to nip the man's neck and then turned him loose, walking around him so that he could slide onto the bed, stretching out on his back as he hungrily watched the other man climb in after him, straddling him as he lowered his head to continue where they'd left off.

Lips moving desperately against each other's, hands running over damp skin with knowing skill and barely constrained eagerness. Everything so much more that it wasn't long before neither of them had the strength to draw out the foreplay for much longer. After all, if just that was so much better in reality, then what were the orgasms going to be like?

He'd be finding out shortly, Arthur thought as he retrieved the bottle of lubricant he'd left out on his bedside table for this moment. Handing it to the forger, who gave his a surprised look, Arthur grinned in a way that had the best kind of shiver running up Eames's spine. "It's been a while for me, so get cracking loosening me up so I can take you." The point man licked his lips in anticipation. "I want all of you inside me."

Not about to argue Eames quickly applied the lube to his fingers, kissing his way along the other man's jaw as he turned his attention to using his fingers to prepare the other man for his hard, sizable erection. "You're going to ignore the doctor's orders? How unlike you, Darling." He purred as he watched his darling's eyes close in pleasure as the point man moved sensually against his fingers.

Opening his eyes to half mast Arthur's eyes spoke of the great pleasure to come. "Who says I'm going to ignore his orders? He just said you should be on the bottom."

Cocking his head to the side Eames's face briefly showed puzzlement before turning into a wide, knowing grin. "Are you going to be riding me then, Darling?"

"Into the ground." Was the point man's harsh, panted reply, groaning long and low in the back of his throat as the forger's fingers hit the spot guaranteed to make him forget all about the doctor's orders. God but it felt so good and right, so very right, Arthur thought as he swallowed hard, not taking his eyes off of Eames. What had changed between them was right, straight down the line.

They'd been idiots not to do this sooner.

He was even at the point where he was willing to admit that he'd been the bigger idiot.

"That's an interesting expression you're wearing." And he was loving it, Eames thought as he stared into those big, dark brown eyes that were, as he'd always wanted, completely absorbed in him so that they saw only him. Wanted only him. Needed only him.

And knowing that the man would want the words Arthur leaned in to give the forger the sweetest of kisses before pulling back to lean his forehead against the other man's. "I want you inside of me, Eames. Make love to me."

"There's nothing I want more." Eames assured him huskily, slowly withdrawing his fingers, using them instead to work himself into his lover's hot and willing body, watching as Arthur moved to accommodate and help him inside, the other man's abdominal muscles contracting like mad as the point man strained to keep control of his body. "You're so beautiful, Darling. So beautiful."

"I'll whack you upside the head for calling me that later." Taking it slow just might kill him, Arthur thought as he carefully rocked his hips, riding the other man's erection as he kept his eyes on Eames's face, looking for any sign that his weight was too much or that what they were doing was annoying the forger's still somewhat battered body.

Fingers digging into the other man's hips Eames was beyond noticing his body's complaints as he moved his body and Arthur's in tandem, their goal the same as they fell into a rhythm that had them both straining to remain in control of themselves, that resolve snapping hard when Eames, unable to bear the slow pace anymore, bucked up, his cry of pleasure harsh at the white hot pleasure that caused as the point man came down to take him deep.

And unable to remain in control Arthur abandoned any restraint, making no sound of complaint when the forger rolled him over onto his back, wrapping his legs around his lover's waist as Eames hard, desperate thrusts took them to the edge and over with dizzying speed and pleasure.

)

Minutes later, not having the strength to roll off the point man just yet, Eames smiled tiredly as he rested his head contently on Arthur's sweaty shoulder. "That was definitely worth the wait."

"Better than any dream." Arthur agreed as he lifted a hand to stroke the forger's hair back.

"And that's something we'll always agree on, Darling."

THE END


End file.
